


Talk To(o)

by yutorin



Series: Pet-verse [2]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Grocery Shopping, I am too soft, M/M, Mentioned Takabu, Not the smutty sequel everyone was expecting, Originally Posted in 2016, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 16:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20838779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: What were the chances of running into your prostitute at the supermarket?





	Talk To(o)

“I almost forgot.” Hikaru had been halfway out the hotel room door, but he leaned back in, fingers going to the buckle on the red leather collar that was still looped around the other man’s neck, and he began unfastening it, the man leaning into his touch as a small smile graced his lips. Hikaru loved his lips, the thick fullness of them one of his favorite things about him, and he leaned in a bit further, taking a step back inside to kiss him as the collar came loose, falling from the man’s throat. He balled it up in one hand, depositing it safely into the other man’s hands and placing a swift kiss on his cheek before saying “Bye for now.”

“Bye Hikaru. Have a good day.” He was still smiling, and his soft voice made Hikaru smile too. Hikaru loved the way his name rolled off of the man's tongue, loved the little light that seemed to spark in his eyes whenever he said it, as if it was something special. He'd debated revealing his name for weeks, and he'd only shared the information a few months previous, but it was a decision he was glad he'd made. He still didn’t know the man’s name, and the one time he’d asked he had been told to just call him a pet name. So, as a joke Hikaru called him ‘Pet’, but he didn’t do it often, feeling like―while it was a joke―it was a rather dehumanizing word. In his head he simply referred to this man as _’The Man’_.

That Friday was like every other special Friday. He took the train to work and changed his tie in the restroom at the station, checking his skin and clothes for any indication that he hadn’t gone home the night before, wanting to make sure there was nothing before he got into the office. He’d been doing it for months and it was well practiced, no one noticing anything different about him when he got to work. The day went by in a whirl of development meetings, and he got out a little late, stomach growling by the time he caught the train back home to his apartment. When he got in Yabu was already home, takeout on the table in boxes, and his friend and roommate greeted him with a smile, his cheeks puffed out and full of food, a steaming styrofoam box with Hikaru’s name on it on the table and a soccer game on their television.

He sat down, listening as Yabu enthused to him about his day. Yabu was dating a young food critic, and every other Thursday his boyfriend would take him out to dinner, and then they’d spend the night downtown, as Yabu had the second and fourth Friday of the month off. It was a good routine for them, and Takaki seemed to make his friend happy. Hikaru had met him a few times, and he liked him well enough. It was when Yabu started prodding about if _he’d_ considered letting Takaki set him up with one of his friends that Hikaru’s thoughts started to wander, back to the sex he’d had the night before; back to the man he met with during Yabu’s date nights, with his long black hair and his full red lips, and his soft voice that was so innocent that it seemed to contradict his profession. He thought of the way the man looked, all flushed spread out on the sheets of their hotel bed, the red leather collar around his neck a stark contrast even against his flushed skin.

He was completely distracted, not paying attention to a word Yabu was saying, when he heard his name. He blinked, the word jerking him back to the present and he looked over at his friend, the other man staring at him expectantly.

“Yeah?” He tried, and that seemed to be the right thing to say, Yabu smiling.

“Great! I’m going to hold you to it. Tomorrow it is then.” Hikaru had no idea just what he'd agreed to, but he didn't want to out himself by asking, so he nodded, and smiled when Yabu launched into an enthusiastic description of the soccer game that was playing on their television. They finished their dinner, Hikaru agreeing to watch the game with Yabu, and in exchange Yabu agreed to playing one of Hikaru’s shooter video games with him, the two of them exchanging casual smack talk and joking and laughing in front of the television for a few hours, until Yabu declared he was going to bed, the taller man telling Hikaru jokingly that he shouldn’t stay up late, knowing full well he wouldn’t listen.

Hikaru woke up late the next morning, planning on spending most of his day in his pajamas with a game controller in his hand. Those plans were dashed when he came into the kitchen to find Yabu already up and dressed, an expectant look on his face.

“Hikaru, are you ready to go?” Hikaru blinked in surprise, shaking his head.

“We’re going out this morning remember? The supermarket I was telling you about, their morning specials end in a few hours, we have to get moving!” Yabu shoved him back toward his bedroom. “I want you dressed and ready to go in five minutes.” Confused and slightly disgruntled that his Saturday plans of staying in his pajamas had been disrupted, Hikaru took a quick shower and threw on some clothes, Yabu whisking him out the door and onto a train. They headed back into the city, departing from the train station at a brisk walk, Yabu enthusing to him about some German sausages as they finally reached their destination. A wholly ordinary looking supermarket.

Hikaru wasn't sure what made _this_ supermarket so superior to the ones by their apartment. He wasn’t really in the mood to find out either, his stomach growling in protest, reminding him that he had yet to eat breakfast, and he was tempted to tell his friend that he was just going to find a nearby cafe and wait for him to finish his grocery shopping there, but he’d barely formed the thought before Yabu was dragging him inside, way too excited about european breakfast meat. It was his enthusiasm that made Hikaru swallow his grumbling, however, and he did his best not to complain, trailing along behind Yabu as he led him through aisles of foods.

Yabu was chattering on about those damned sausages, and the soccer game they'd been watching the night before. Hikaru had been trying to keep up with his companion's enthusiastic descriptions of the game mixed with exclamations about spices, when he looked up from a display of bananas and saw _The Man_ barely two meters away, looking mildly confusedly down at two different barrels of apples, and he froze, surprise hitting him like a slap in the face. He was stunned, numb with disbelief, and for a moment only one thought ran through his mind. What were the chances of running into your prostitute at a grocery store?

The man was as handsome and beautiful as ever, his long hair falling around his face, one hand raking through it, pulling it away to reveal that he had earrings in, silver studs that gleamed in the florescent lighting. He was wearing a plain white v-neck tee shirt and some ripped jeans, a silver necklace that matched his earrings hooked around his neck, leather bands on his wrists, rings decorating his fingers. Hikaru hadn't ever seen him with this much _on,_ but the extra layer didn't do much to hide the muscular physique of the man, his shirt tight on his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his large arms, the muscles under the skin rippling as he ran his hand through his hair, his pink lips still pursed in a small pout as he glanced back and forth between the two different barrels of apples.

Hikaru felt like he was dreaming. It was surreal to see the man here, out in broad daylight. To see his broad muscular body wrapped in jeans and a tee shirt, looking positively normal as he pondered his choice of fruit. It was starkly humanizing to see the man with everyday clothes on, to see him in the harsh lights of the grocery store, instead of sweaty and bare, panting in the dimmed lights of their regular hotel room. Hikaru hadn't really thought that he had hypersexualized the man before, but seeing him here_ like this,_ out doing normal everyday things, he seemed so much more like a real person―and not just a wet dream―than he ever had in all of their nights together, and the contrast was striking. Hikaru was staring, blatantly staring open mouthed like an idiot, and Yabu noticed, giving him a weird look and asking

"Hey, you okay man?" Hikaru glanced back at his friend, his mind racing, panicking a bit, because what was he supposed to say? _'You know those date nights you have with your boyfriend, where you spend the night out on the town before going back to his place? And you know how I told you I use those nights to work late? Yeah, well I don't work late those nights. I actually go to a hotel and have mind blowing sex all night. With that man over there. And I pay him.'_ Yeah. Right. He had half a mind to drop everything and run out of the supermarket, his taboo night-life and his regular, socially acceptable day-life colliding a thought so numbingly scary that his first instinct was to avoid it at all costs.

Sure, Yabu would have some questions, but he could come up with some reason he just _had to go,_ and in a week it would all be forgotten. Maybe he could pretend to throw up. Maybe he could actually throw up. His mind was racing, heart pounding in his chest, and yet, despite how afraid he was of Yabu finding out about his secret rendezvous, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the man. He was still staring down at the barrels of apples, his head tilting to one side as he contemplated the apples in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed in as if the decision on his choice of fruit was one of immense complexity. It was cute. It was cute in an innocent way. Every second spent looking at The Man made him seem more and more like a person and less like the sex god Hikaru had always considered him to be.

Hikaru had thought he’d loved everything about The Man. The way he smiled, when Hikaru greeted him. The way he kissed, like kissing Hikaru was one of his favorite things. The way he would moan and push closer when Hikaru was inside of him. Their nights together always left Hikaru wanting more, wanting to stay when the sun rose, to let The Man curl in close and to bask in the trust that he always gave Hikaru, without question. He never had, afraid of breaking the fantasy, afraid of destroying the perfect illusion they had built around the nights in the hotel room that he’d started to refer to as “theirs”, in his thoughts.

But now that illusion was broken, and he was realizing, as he stared, standing between a banana display and his confused friend, that it wasn’t a bad thing. He was surprised to find that he didn’t want to try and hide, to try and pretend that he hadn’t seen, and preserve any scrap of illusion he had left. He wanted to make the man real. He wanted him to be more than a sex god that Hikaru paid for some of the most amazing nights of his life. He wanted The Man to be more than that. He wanted him to be a person. A person with opinions and friends, likes and dislikes, and feelings. Hikaru found himself brushing off Yabu's question, telling his friend to keep shopping without him, steeling himself for a moment before taking a deep breath and walking up to The Man, getting so close that he could just reach out and touch him before saying

"Hi." The man jumped, apparently so focused on his apple picking that he hadn't noticed Hikaru's approach, and he glanced over, his eyes wide, face looking just as shocked as Hikaru had felt a few moments before, and Hikaru had a sickening thought that perhaps this had been a terrible idea. But then the man's expression softened a bit, and he treated Hikaru to a small smile, saying quietly

"Hi Hikaru." Hikaru loved the way his name rolled off of the man's tongue, loved the little light that seemed to spark in his eyes whenever he said it, as if it was something special. It made something inside of him light up, rushing over him in a tingling warmth. It felt good, to hear his name fall from the man’s lips.

"I usually prefer the Gala apples." Hikaru offered, pointing to the bin on the man's right. The man's smile grew bigger, and he nodded, going over to that bin and picking out a few choice fruits, and as he did so he asked

"What brings you here? I've never seen you here before."

"My roommate wanted to come." Hikaru told him, gesturing to where Yabu was standing over by the bananas, the older man staring at them blatantly. “He’s been talking about some special German sausages all morning.” The man nodded, looking over at Yabu and smiling at him, Hikaru’s friend treating the two of them to a bewildered look and smiling tentatively back.

“So...d’you come here often?” The man smiled and shrugged, turning his attention back to Hikaru.

“I don’t cook as much as I should, I mostly just get take out from somewhere, but when I do decide to cook I usually come here. It’s close to the university.”

“You’re a student?” Hikaru asked, surprised.

“Not anymore, I recently graduated.”

“What’d you study?”

“English.”

“I did Computer Graphics.” The conversation grew more relaxed, and before he knew it Hikaru found himself telling the man all sorts of inconsequential details about his life. It felt strange to be telling the man these things, things about himself that weren't particularly special or interesting. But the man seemed genuinely interested, and as they talked he seemed to relax. They talked about all sorts of things, like normal people would, and Hikaru found himself really enjoying listening to the man talk, watching him come alive as he tried to put his thoughts into words. He was adorable, and he seemed almost shy, the behavior contrasting with the adventurous willingness he'd displayed in their nighttime rendezvous.

This side of the man was one Hikaru was finding he wanted to know much more about, Hikaru decided, as the man smiled when he made a pun about pears. There was a pause in the conversation, and Hikaru felt nervous again, the feeling bubbling inside of him, rolling and threatening to come up his throat and keep him from speaking, but then, as if from far away, he heard himself ask the man if he could take him out to dinner sometime. And then....silence.

It was a long, breath stealing, throat tightening silence that―the longer it stretched out―seemed to crush him, and he hadn't realized just how long he'd been wanting to ask that question until he’d done it. But the man was looking at him with something close to fear in his face, and Hikaru opened his mouth again, the words about how he meant he wanted to take the man out on a proper date―a date, with no sex. Not a sex thing. No. Like a date that people went on. He felt like a blabbering idiot, but those words made the man smile, and then the man nodded, and he said

"Yes. Okay." Those small words made Hikaru's chest feel light, and he nodded back, talking before he could even register the thoughts, setting up a time and a place to meet, and before long the man had agreed to meet him at the train station at seven that following Saturday evening. It was only then, as the conversation was coming to a close, that Hikaru realized that despite everything that had just happened, he'd forgotten to ask one, extremely important question.

"What's your name?" The man blinked at him, and then he blushed a bit, his fingers flying to his neck and rubbing at it in a cute way, and he seemed more self conscious than he ever had in all of their many nights together as he said quietly

"Keito." Hikaru liked the way that sounded, he decided. _Keito._ it seemed to suit this gentle, beautiful man standing in front of him, and he smiled, offering the man―Keito―his hand, and he said

"It's nice to meet you Keito."

Keito smiled.


End file.
